Forgive me, my brother
by Absinthe HiddenCloak
Summary: Altair has been stuck in chains for five years after his betrayal of the Assassin Order. Can Malik find it in his heart to forgive Altair and help him redeem himself? Eventual Alt/Mal, light slash (also known as kissing) in later chapters.
1. Introduction

**Hey everybody! This is my first AC fic, so please give me advice if I'm doing something wrong. Thanks!**

**Assassin's Creed | Assassin's Creed | Assassin's Creed | Assassin's Creed | Assassin's Creed**

Altaїr cursed as he rattled his chains for what felt like the millionth time. Shaking violently with pain and hunger, the former assassin collapsed back against the dirty wall of his cell. Rough brick and stone left their dirt and grime on his skin, making it feel slimy and disgusting, but Altaїr was losing the ability to care.

It had been ages since the horrors of Kadar's death and Malik's injury. Ages since Altaїr had been locked away to suffer by Al Mualim. Memories of that terrible day surfaced unbidden, and Altaїr moaned in agony. Hot tears scalded the shamed and demoted assassin's eyes. Altaїr longed for the warm caress of the sun on his skin, for the feeling of wind playing over his face. Such small things made him feel so envious of those who were free that Altaїr would gladly have traded anything to feel them again.

Above all, Altaїr longed for the friendship and comradery of his assassin brothers.

"Malik," Altaїr whispered achingly, "I am so sorry for what I did!"

Knowing that Malik couldn't hear him didn't stop the former assassin. He just needed to hear something besides the sound of footsteps outside his cell. With a sob, he continued; "I was so rash, so foolish. My mistakes cost you so much...if only you could hear me, and I could tell you how sorry I am!"

Breaking the Creed had been so easy at the time. So simple. But it had caused terrible amounts of damage to both Altaїr and the Brotherhood. How stupid it had been to spit in the face of rules established by men wiser than himself. Malik had probably chosen to leave Masyaf, in favor of starting a new life elsewhere. He'd probably never forgive the man who killed his brother and taken his arm.

Each breath made Altaїr shudder with revulsion. It stank down here, where fresh air never reached and dead vermin littered the cold earth floor. Darkness permeated everything, making it impossible to see without a torch. Altaїr couldn't tell the difference between when his eyes were open and when they were closed. The air, the stone, everything was cold and dark and harsh.

_Thump, thump, thump!_

Altaїr flinched, startled by the sudden sound of footsteps. Frightened, he pressed himself against the solid firmness of the wall. The cold, slimy stone only served to make him feel worse. The sound of his cell door being opened caused terror to flood the Syrian man's veins.

As the door opened light - bright, blinding light - filled and overwhelmed Altaїr's senses. Blinking wildly, Altaїr threw up a hand to protect his eyes. The black metal chains that bound his wrists jangled at the movement. Laughter sounded in front of the Syrian man, causing him to whimper in fear and cringe away. He'd become a laughingstock among the Brotherhood for his failure to follow the Creed.

Suddenly, a hard kick drove all of the air from Altaїr's lungs. He gave a pained yelp and fell flat on his stomach, feeling the earth benath his fingers and against his face.

Jeers and hoots sounded above the former assassin, the mocking of those he'd left behind:

"This thing used to be one of us?"

"Impossible! It looks as though it has never seen the light of day before!"

With each breath, Altaїr prayed in anguish, _Allah, please...let me redeem myself. Give me some sign of hope!_


	2. The Invitation to Masyaf

The harsh, hot sun blazed over Jerusalem, illuminating all and leaving nothing untouched except for the meager shade provided by carts and stands. Bells clanged occasionally, punctuating the harsh cries and yells of sellers and buyers. People bustled every which way beneath the high buildings, preoccupied with their simple lives. From the highest vantage point in the city, a lone figure peered out, looking at what he thought of as his domain. He wore long, dark robes which left his sun-kissed golden skin and short black hair visible. The figure watched all below him with deep brown eyes that missed nothing.

Malik Al - Sayf enjoyed coming up here occasionally to think about life and ponder various other secrets of the universe. Others came here only rarely, to this forgotten part of an old tower. It was his haven, his place of safety. Today, however, Malik was troubled by current events.

The dark-eyed Dai had no idea why Altair was on his mind lately. _Murderer,_ he thought irritably. It had been a long time since he'd thought of the cocky, foolish bastard who'd killed Kadar. Even his brother's name brought horribly painful memories bubbling to the surface. A fiery feeling began to course through his veins, making Malik growl angrily under his breath. Why was Altair on his mind lately? The dark-eyed Syrian man didn't want to think about his enemy. Altair deserved to rot in the cell he'd been thrown in until he died.

Unbidden, the image of Altair being stabbed through the shoulder flashed before Malik's eyes. Blood had stained the blade as it appeared, cutting through the skin, and anguished screams had rung out as that blade was twisted viciously. Al-Mualim certainly made the traitor suffer that day.

"Dai Malik?" A voice called from behind him.

Twisting around to look at the window, Malik saw the white-robed messenger who had hailed him. The messenger was hanging out said window, hands cupped around his mouth so that his voice carried enough to be heard.

"I am he. What is it that you want from me?" Malik queried impatiently. His mouth formed a straight, grim line across his face, indicating how little he wanted to deal with other people at the moment.

"Al-Mualim sent me to tell you that you are needed in Masyaf," the messenger explained. Noticing the Dai's obvious annoyance, he explained as quickly as possible. "Something about final judgment and a traitor, he said to me."

Altair...Malik's eyes widened at the thought. Icy cold horror flooded his gut, and he felt as thought he'd just been punched. Of course! Al-Mualim had told him all that time ago that he would imprison the traitor for five years, and then present him to Malik for final judgment. It was an old tradition among the Order; one rarely used these days. So long had it been that even the dark-eyed Dai had forgotten about it. Nodding slowly, Malik stood and made his way back inside the tower towards the messenger. He dropped through the window and dusted himself off before replying.

"Very well, then. Tell him that I am coming as swiftly as possible." At the Dai's words, the white-robed messenger departed with a hurried goodbye. "I want to get this over with quickly..." Malik murmured to himself, frowning.

Seeing Altair again would be an awful experiance. _How in the world can I face that man? How? He ruined me and got my brother murdered, all because of his stupidity and pride! Allah, what to do?_

It was necessary, however, if Malik wished to be truly free from the pain of his brother's death. Taking a few deep, cleansing breaths of the hot, dusty Jerusalem air, Malik strode off to get his things packed. The Grand Master was waiting for him and did not take kindly to people being late.

**Bloody...I'm so sorry I didn't put up a new chappie earlier. Please bear with me as I attempt to figure out a good update schedule! **


	3. Will it be a happy ending?

Altair coughed harshly, huddling against the cold stone of the wall. The only sounds he could hear in the darkness were the _lub-lub, lub-lub _of his heart and the soft rasp of his breath. Pain radiated throughout his body and Altair whimpered pathetically. Nobody could hear him, nobody could see him, nobody would save him! Terrified, the demoted assassin began to sob.

_Allah, I've sunk so low!_ he thought sorrowfully. Each tear that slid down his cheeks burned as it made contact with the many cuts and bruises on his flesh. In the icy cold they felt hot and wet.

Hours slid by without any change in the world around him. Altair shifted uncomfortably, bored out of his mind. This was probably one of the worst parts of being imprisoned. Boredom had always been Altair's worst enemy. Now he was stuck with it as a constant companion. He attempted to occupy himself with memorizing the dips and curves in the wall he rested against.

This occupation caused his chains to rattle and clank violently in the silence, but it helped to calm Altair's mind and let him ignore some of the pain from his aching body. Surely they would bring him food soon! Even the thought made the former assassin's mouth water. Hard bread and stale water were hardly luxury foods, but at the moment he'd take anything offered with gratitude. It made him want to gnaw on the ragged clothes that clung to his body - a habit that he now indulged. The threads wore away beneath his teeth as even more time passed with insufferable slowness.

_Thump, thump, thump! _Altair frowned. Those were the footsteps of booted feet, not the soft, light steps of the novice who brought food to the cell each day. What madness was this?

_Clank, click,_ went the key in the lock. On cue, Altair covered his eyes to avoid being blinded by the torchlight that filled the room. His dirty, scared body was illuminated and caressed by the warm, flickering glow. Before his eyes had the chance to adjust, though, heavy blows slammed him to the floor.

"Unf!" Altair cried, twisting and writhing in a vain attempt to seek refuge. More blows fell and he yelped wildly as mocking laughter rang out above him. "Stop this! Please! No...Allah, let me go, stop it, please!"

"What, are you getting upset? Want your mother, Novice?" one of Altair's assailants mocked.

Raising his head weakly, Altair gave the assassins a pleading look. "I...let me go...you've hurt me enough for one...day." His voice sounded truly pathetic and scared. Jeers rang out the second he finished speaking.

_Snick!_ the sound of a knife being drawn sounded in Altair's ears. Horror chilled him to the bone immediately as he recognized the intent behind that knife. They would torture him to death, leave him to bleed out in this dirty slice of living hell!

"Ayah!" Altair screamed as hot agony seared through his right shoulder. The former assassin fought to get away from the knife blade that twisted viciously in his flesh. His harsh screams tore through the air. Altair's throat ached from lack of water, his eyes burned with tears, his body screamed with agony.

_Let me die, please! _he prayed, clenching his fingers into a fist. _What kind of God are you, that you are so cruel?_

Then everything just stopped. The silence was only broken by weak, panting sobs that took a moment for Altair to recognize as his own. Unmoving, the former assassin waited, listening to the soft footsteps that approached him.

Who had stopped the torture? Vary slowly, Altair gazed upward, blinking to focus his eyes. The man's face came into focus, causing Altair to give a weak cry of joy. He recognized Malik almost instantly. This truly must be his lucky day, then; Malik would let him free, have pity on him!

**Yay! Alty's happy now :) I left this chapter on a happy note, because the next few probably won't be as happy...**

**Anyway, review please!**


	4. The Worst Kind of Boredom

**Last time:**

_Then everything just stopped. The silence was only broken by weak, panting sobs that took a moment for Altair to recognize as his own. Unmoving, the former Assassin waited, listening to the soft footsteps that approached him. _

_Who had stopped the torture? Vary slowly, Altair gazed upward, blinking to focus his eyes. The man's face came into focus, causing Altair to give a weak cry of joy. He recognized Malik almost instantly. This truly must be his lucky day, then; Malik would let him free, have pity on him!_

**A Month Later...**

Altair grunted as another heavy package was dropped unceremoniously into his already full arms. He could barely see over the growing pile, and it got harder and harder to navigate the crowded markets of Jerusalem. With a groan of exhaustion Altair did his best to follow Malik to the next shop.

_My feet feel as though they are about to drop off! _the Novice thought irritably. Irritation and impatience were making their presence known, urging him to give Malik a piece of his mind. It could not happen, though; challenging the Dai would only get him punished even worse. Cursing the temptation to drop the items he was carrying and punch Malik good and hard, Altair fidgeted beneath the weight. At the moment it looked as though the Dai had begun haggling over prices with an old hag who sold goat products.

Knowing how thoroughly he was annoying Altair, Malik did his best to drag out the haggling for as long as possible. Just as he was about to lower the price yet again the Novice called out despairingly.

"Dai, can we please just accept a reasonable price and move on quickly? These things are getting hard to hold!"

Malik turned around, enjoying the chance to mock his enemy. "You feel tired, Novice? Put the things down then, and suffer my wrath if I find sand in my food!"

Altair paled beneath his hood and shut his mouth. Looking up at what he could see of the sky, the former Assassin gritted his teeth against the pain of his shoulder. High above the city an eagle sat perched atop a tower. It screeched and took off, one of its feathers floating down to land on Altair's shoulder.

Seeing the feather made the grim, white-robed figure smile slightly. Eagles had always been his favorite birds. They hung around areas where Assassins lived or worked, and they seemed to leave the Brotherhood's messenger pidgeons alone for some odd reason. Perhaps this had something to do with the way the birds were given nesting areas atop fortress towers and protected as a species from hunters. It was an odd symbiosis, but it fit nonetheless.

Later, Malik took some pity on Altair and led the tired Novice back along the streets to the Jerusalem Bureau. He had taken a long time shopping today anyway, and Altair still suffered from the not-completely-healed shoulder wound. Malik would notice subtle winces or movements that revealed discomfort. But of course Altair still had a long way to go if he truly wished to regain his rank and respect.

The cool shade provided by the Bureau provided welcome relief from hot sunlight. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Altair put down the goods he carried. From the first day he had been taught how to sort out and store the various things needed by the Brotherhood. White feathers - taken for free from the local butcher - went into their assigned apartment in Malik's desk for ease of access. Systematically Altair did his duties, being careful to not look at Malik. The Dai would think that he was slacking off or silently mocking him. It made the demoted Assassin shake his head slightly; his entire day now seemed to be spent doing nothing but pleasing the irritable and unforgiving Dai.

Certainly, Malik had allowed Altair to be freed from the cell, but that did not necessarily mean that much had improved. Altair did not get the freedom or permission to free run or regain the strength his muscles had lost. Every waking minute seemed to be spent in Malik's shadow, and Altair hated it with a burning passion. He'd never been one to be happy as second-best, which, for better or for worse, imprisonment didn't seem to have changed.

A soft _hiss_ of resentment escaped Altair's mouth. If Malik had noticed, the Dai did not comment or react.

**Well, everyone? I made this one longer...though I did go into detail about the eagle thing. Remember that for later, guys! I don't know how, but when I make a point of something it will come into play in future times :)**

**Now, review!**


	5. A Wonderful New Day

**Wow! I had a darn lot of homework to do :O And then there were preperations for Turkey Day to deal with. Hope you guys forgive me! **

**By the way, if I don't get at least two reviews I will not update! No sir. I won't. **

Altair groaned happily at the comforting embrace of his bed. He had been working hard all day, with barely the time to drink and eat a hurried lunch. Malik did not treat him with any kindness, really, leaving Altair to sleep on a rough straw mat with only a patchy, thin blanket to cover himself against the nighttime chill. Even hardened and experianced Assassins would grumble if forced to sleep so uncomfortably. It was, however, much better than taking shelter on a rooftop or in an alleyway and trying to survive the freezing desert night. That was one fate Altair was thankful to have avoided.

Carrying boxes and sorting things, running back and forth at Malik's bidding like an obediant dog. That was what Altair had been forced to do. And yet the Dai did not allow him to train his strength so that he could do more, **be **more. Altair was infuriated by the fact that he resented Malik's treatment while still longing to impress the man. How could the Dai inspire such anger and admiration at the same time?

Grumbling under his breath, Altair hissed as he found that he could not find a position to sleep in that was in any way comfortable for his sore back. _I've done entirely too much lifting,_ the Novice thought grumpily. Cold air touched his face, making it feel even more frozen than the rest of his body.

Footsteps sounding behind him made Altair aware of Malik's approach. The Dai said nothing, choosing instead to rummage through his neatly organised desk to recover some vaguely important object. Altair had impressed him today with the fortitude and silence he'd displayed. Malik wondered absently if he should reward the Novice for that; he'd been proving himself each day, going above and beyond with each task assigned.

The silence continued for a few moments before Malik decided to break it.

"Tired, Ibn-La'Ahad?"

"Yes," came the reply. Altair did not bother to raise his head or look in his dark-eyed companion's direction. The silence returned, broken only by the faint scratching of a quill as Malik made a note somewhere. Only for a moment, however; the Dai had other plans.

"So, do you think you will be able to bear such work again tomorrow?"

Altair couldn't help it - he spluttered in shock and distress, sitting bolt upright on his mat. "You cannot be serious, Dai!"

The corners of Malik's mouth quirked upward into a smile. Pushing his chair back, the one-armed Dai stood with insufferable slowness before gracing Altair with an answer. "Oh, Ibn-La'Ahad, I am. Tomorrow shall be no easier than today. Any normal Assassin has had much practice with this kind of endurance training, if you remember."

Unable to argue, Altair brought one hand up to rub his eyes before reclining once again. If he knew anything about Malik, it was that the Dai told the truth. He was going to need all the rest he could get.

As an afterthought, Malik decided to throw Altair a small compliment.

"You did surprisingly well today, Novice." The gentleness that entered his voice was unexpected for both of them. Then the moment disapeared as Jerusalem's Dai turned on his heel and exited the room. Behind him, for the first time in weeks, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad smiled.

-line break-

Sleep lifted its warm shadow from Altairs mind slowly. The Novice twitched as his body uncurled instinctively in response to the light that filtered in from the open panel on the cieling.

Pleased by the discovery that slumber healed aching joints, Altair found himself wondering what tasks he would be assigned today. He rose from the straw mat to put on his white hooded robe and tie a red sash around his waist, stretching to work the kinks out of his back. The very air around him seemed to be charged with energy and vigor - a sense of newness that revitalised the Novice Aassassin. _What put me in such a good mood?_ Altair wondered as he walked over to the well, preparing to wash his face.

It took Altair a few minutes to remember, but when he finally did the memory gave him a rush of satisfaction. Malik had given him a compliment! Not only that, but the grumpy Dai had spoken to him without malice or dismissal. A _hum _of happiness stirred in Altair's throat as he closed his eyes. Warm sunlight touched his skin, deeply pleasant after the cold night. Wingbeats overhead marked the passage of pideons. Voices sounded in the streets nearby as people woke up and started their day.

Turning back to the bureau, Altair blinked at the unexpected sight of Malik watching him from the doorway. Intense dark eyes took in everything, golden sun kissed Malik's tan skin, and Altair's breath hitched. He couldn't look away; it was as though he was seeing a sun god who had been thrown to Earth, rudely denied a place in heaven.

When Altair did not move, Malik arched one eyebrow. "Are you going to stare at me all day? Jerusalem does not run itself, Novice."

Woken from his trance and feeling distinctly embarrassed, Altair followed Malik back into the bureau. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, and knew that he must be a brilliant shade of pink, but mercifully Malik did not comment on it.

That mercy gave Altair hope for the future. Perhaps Malik would find respect and friendship in his heart for the man who had wronged him. Altair couldn't help but wish that the Dai might see him as more than a friend someday, even though it was a great sin to be thinking that way about another man. His former irritation, born of feeling unappreciated and scorned, had disapated after the kindness shown to him. Now it didn't seem to matter that he would be exhausted by the end of the day, because he had a chance to redeem himself and earn back what he had lost.

Malik interupted Altair's thoughts, smiling inwardly. "Once you eat, Novice, prepare yourself. We will be free-running today."

The news caused Altair's jaw to drop rather comically. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.

"YES!"

**Wow! I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner, guys, but it was Thanksgiving and I didn't really have the energy to update. You get an extra long chapter, though, so it evens out. **

**Please please please review! I want to know what you all think.**


	6. Is something the matter, Altair? 1

Altair raced across the rooftops with steadily increasing speed and grace. His hands and feet quickly relearned how to support him as he moved in a way that many people had never even thought of. Malik watched the Novice from the top of a nearby viewpoint, considering the future. Altair would probably want to go back to Masyaf after he'd re-earned his rank. Then there would be nobody to pester him about drawing or what went where. Nobody else could annoy Malik the way Altair did, and _goddamnit_ Malik knew he was going to miss that. It brought variety and spice into his life after a long time of being the lonely, pittiful one-armed Dai.

Eagles circled overhead as Malik surveyed the ground. Altair's progress was admirable, even enviable. There could be no mistaking the raw talent he possessed and used with deadly accuracy and stunning skill. Jerusalem's Dai saw everything the Novice did, since they were rarely separated during all their waking hours. He'd been noticing the way Altair tried to _play _with him, instead of annoy him. Engage him gently instead of rudely.

Unbidden, a smile graced Malik's face. Yes, he would miss the Novice.

Standing quickly and turning around, Malik raised an eyebrow at Altair, who had attempted to sneak up on him. "You will not surprise me, Ibn-La'Ahad. Try a million times if you like, and you will not succeed once."

"So sure of yourself, Dai!" Altair chuckled. It was true laughter, warm and happy. "Who else would test you if not me? Keep you on your toes?"

_No one, _Malik thought privately, but aloud he simply shook his head. "I have enough to do without you adding to my burdens. Come, we have been away long enough. The Bureau awaits." And he leapt off the plank he'd been perching on, preforming a perfect Leap of Faith into a hay bale below. As he brushed his robes clean of the straw Altair landed in the bale with a muffled _thump. _

They walked together, strolling through the Rich District as though they belonged there. Smirking at the sight of a guard who was being jostled and thrown everywhere by the crowd, Altair kept to himself and observed Malik from beneath the shadow of his deep hood. Jerusalem's Dai watched everything like a hawk - he noticed things like the beggars who frequented each street corner, the smells each stand put out, where guards stood and where they were missing. A profound emotion welled up in Altair's heart like a tidal wave. Feirce and unrelenting, it was a deep regret that he could not have spared Malik the pain losing his brother and arm had brought.

Regret and something else. Was it...love?

Surely not! Assassins were forbidden to fall in love; it was considered the greatest possible weakness one could have. So why in the name of Allah was it happening to Altair? He didn't need to add 'attracted to other men' to his list of faults. He was already extremely close to getting thrown out of the order as it was.

Malik suddenly touched his arm, causing Altair to startle. "What is it, Dai?" he asked after regaining his composure.

"You do realise that the Bureau is over there, Altair?" Malik queried, pointing to the other side of the street. Altair blushed immediately and fiercely. Jerusalem's Dai smirked playfully and shoved him into a hay bale, making Altair splutter indignantly. "What is wrong with you today? Your head is in the clouds, Novice!"

**Short and long overdue update. So sorry, guys! On the bright side...WINTER BREAK! Expect more updates soon :P**


	7. Is something the matter, Altair? 2

Looking at Malik incredulously, Altair couldn't speak. The dark-eyed beauty in front of him was captivating - demanding his attention no matter what. A few moments passed before Malik pulled him up and sighed, turning away toward the Bureau. Altair had unintentionally revealed more than he'd wanted to. The lust and love that had shone in his face made Malik's heart throb. How could the foolish Novice love him? He was a cripple, and that was all.

As the Dai slipped into a deserted alley, a hand grasped his shoulder. Out of instinct Malik grabbed it and applied crushing pressure to a major nerve cluster right in the middle of the palm.

Yelping in a rather undignified way, Altair struggled to get free. "What are you doing? That hurt!" He protested irritably.

"You dare to sneak up on me and then whine when I react to a possible threat!" Malik hissed scathingly, all good humor gone within seconds. How dare he? The imprudent fool could barely -

But that train of thought went out the window when Altair stepped forward and pressed a passionate kiss to the Dai's lips. Malik froze for a second as his brain tried without success to process what was happening. After a few seconds it decided to skip the thought process entirely and let Malik's body take over. And take over it did.

Altair groaned as Malik's mouth opened to allow him entrance, and he seized the opportunity gladly. Their tongues dueled for a few moments, bodies tight against each other, friction and pleasure guiding all. This was unlike anything Altair had ever done before - he was very picky about who he chose to be amorous with. Malik truly embodied everything he dreamed of; strength, wisdom, and goddamn it_,_even the dark-eyed man's sharp, witty barbs were perfect.

Eventually they were forced apart by the need for air. Both of their chests heaved for a moment as they regained their breath. Then, slowly, Altair reached up to tentatively stroke Malik's neck with a single finger. Little beads of sweat were interrupted on their way down the sinuous, muscled structure.

"Do you want me?" He asked softly.

Malik's Adam's Apple bobbed up and down quickly as he swallowed at the question. His breathing had become shallow, uneven. "Yes..." the dark-eyed man murmured against his partner's lips before claiming them in a second kiss. Emotions whirled like bright, vivid stars in his heart, making the Dai feel unbalanced, giddy. But Altair held him steady and kissed the uncertainty away like it was nothing, like this relationship wouldn't get them stoned or killed if someone found out. God, why had he pushed Altair away in the first place? Malik was forgetting everything, even the fact...

...that they were in an alley!

Shoving Altair backward, Malik looked around franticly. "We...we should find somewhere more secret," He breathed.

Altair hushed him gently by tracing the contours of the Dai's neck with his thumb, calloused and rough from years of harsh living. "I know just the place, Malik. Come with me."

And they were climbing together, up onto the rooftops. Malik found himself smiling at the way Altair waited for him before racing away off into the burning golden sun. Joy, adrenaline, and motion were all the two Assassins knew in that moment. Blood pounding in his ears, Malik watched the bounding form of his Novice/friend/lover before him. Perhaps his life had truly taken a turn for the better after all. Maybe this was the thing he'd been waiting for all along.

Did it really matter? There wasn't anything to question, anything to be worried about.

From a high viewpoint, a cold-eyed woman watched the two freerunning Assassins. She allowed her lips to curl up at the ends into a dark sneer.

"Perfect," Maria Thorpe murmured.

**HAHA! Yes, Maria had to become a plot device at some point, didn't she? Well, review, please. I'm sad that nobody has sent me any little blurbs recently.**


	8. Aftereffects and smiles

Malik woke up slowly, wrinkling his nose in confusion as he noticed the heavy, warm body laying on top of his own. Further observation revealed that it was Altair. At this, the confusion melted and the one-armed Dai smiled. He took a moment to remember last night's delicious activities, reaching out to stroke his lover's hair. The Eagle of Masyaf looked so soft and innocent laying naked across Malik's lap.

Malik waited calmly for the Novice to wake up by tracing the scars that criss-crossed Altair's back. He did not have too long to wait before the golden-eyed man stretched luxuroiously, blinking in the dawn light.

"Up so early?" Malik chuckled at the sound of Altair's rough, sleepy voice.

"Of course, Novice. The sun does not wait for you to awaken before shedding it's rays."

Grumbling playfully, Altair gave his lover a gentle shove. But he shifted his weight and moved to put some clothes on from where they lay scattered across the floor. Chuckling, Malik followed suit. Already the sun heated the air enough that they did not feel cold getting out of the bed. This meant the day would be very hot, the one-armed Dai mused inwardly. He would have to make sure Altair carried water with him on his errands in case the heat made him dehydrated. Even hardened Assassins could be struck down by heatstroke if not properly prepared.

With a leisurely yawn, Altair would his arms around the Dai's waist. Malik stood still to better enjoy the soft caress of his lover's breath on his cheek. Though he would never admitt it aloud, the dark-eyed man was very sentimental and loved to be held.

"We'd better get to work," He mumbled as he pushed the Novice's hands off. This elicited a grumble from Altair, but the other man consented willingly enough, moving away to wait in the main rooms. All in all, Altair thought, it might turn out to be a good day after all. It wasn't often that life provided reason to be happy.

Determined to make the most of his time, Malik immediately went behind his counter. For a while he simply ignored the confused Altair. When the Novice came up to his counter - looking laughably like a lost puppy - the Dai fought to keep a straight face. Allowing the Eagle to suffer in silence a moment longer, Malik eventually took pity on him. "What is it, Altair? You look bothered."

Shifting from foot to foot like a nervous child, the Novice tried and failed to keep from stuttering. "I...need something to do. Help?"

A bark of laughter issued from Malik's mouth at the question. It was both endearing and amazing that the most skilled Assassin alive was asking Malik for work like a frightened child. Blushing furiously, Altair looked down at the floor. He wished it would swallow him to spare him some of the embarrasment he was feeling right now. Noticing his lover's discomfort, Malik reached out and touched Altair's shoulder gently.

"It's alright, Altair. You just made me laugh! That's good, remember?" Receiving a smile in return, Malik continued. "Now, if you have nothing else to do, I need some help organising the second floor storage spaces. They're a terrible mess at the moment and I'm behind on logging some of the informants' information."

Nodding, Altair disappeared to do the work he was bidden. His white robe trailed behind slightly as though he were a ghost flitting about in the night. The imagery made Malik shake his head and chuckle lightly. _Trust Altair to brighten up my day, _he thought fondly.

**Just a short one here. Still feeling very drained from Finals - which finished today! Woot woot :) I hope to post more over the weekend!**


	9. The Bureau Burns

Smiling to himself, Malik worked industriously on a highly detailed map of Acre. Stopping for a moment, he fingered the quill he was using, thinking about Altair yet again. Soon the silly Novice would get back from his Eagle-Point mission with more feathers for marking targets. The Dai shifted a bit in his seat. Maybe, once Altair got back, they could take a break and have some lunch? Malik was rather hungry now that he thought about it. Thoughts drifting, Jerusalem's Bureau leader allowed himself a rare moment to think about something other than work. He didn't need to finish this map until next month at the earliest, and was done with all the other cataloging that had needed to be done.

Outside on the rooftops, Maria smirked with triumph. She'd monitored the Bureau for hours to make sure that the Dai was alone before climbing a conveiniently placed ladder onto the Bureau roof. Fingering the small black pouch at her belt, the Templar Second-in-Command began to pile and organise the kindling. It was high time that the Bureau burned.

Creating small, strateigically located fires directly on top of the major support beams, she made sure that the flames caught before adding liberal amounts of oil and tar. As the heat rose swiftly, she fled back down the ladder, using her hijab and long plain clothes to blend in with some other women. The crouds sheltered her from watching eyes easily. None of them had noticed anything amiss yet, which was good. Her disguise was delicate, and one odd action could draw attention to her like bees to honey.

_How do assassins do it? _Maria wondered.

oOo

Above his head the fire spread, eating at wood, licking hungrily at the major beams. Malik simply sat behind his desk, enjoying himself. He did not notice that things were horribly wrong. Not until the danger made itself truly known, that is.

_Boom! _Once one of the beams snapped, the others followed suit instantly. _Boom! Boom! WHAM!_

The Bureau collapsed right on top of Malik, burying him in wood and sandstone. Dust and darkness invaded his eyesight, blocking his view. Crying out in pain, Malik found himself stuck beneath a large fragment of roof, unable to move. Fear siezed him - everything was in flames and he couldn't move! This was disaster!

Choking in the thick black smoke, Malik thought miserably of Altair. The poor man would be heartbroken to find his body among the ashes. _Will I be burned up too when he finds me?_ Malik wondered sadly. Tears trickled down the normally stoic Dai's face. They stung his eyes and he already felt his heart throbbing. Wherever he went after his death, he'd miss his Eagle.

oOo

Hand over hand, Altair ascended his last Eagle Point with relief. It had taken him most of the morning - into the early afternoon, in fact - to find them all and see which ones had feathers. The Eagle of Masyaf sat there a moment to enjoy the wonderful feeling of the wind in his face and the warmth of the sun. He watched the eagle that circled the point, which his presence there had disturbed. As it swooped to the South, Altair gasped, sitting up taller. Clouds of smoke were pouring into the air.

Something big was burning. In the South...

_THE BUREAU! MALIK! _

With a cry of distress, the Eagle dove off his perch to land in a haybale below. Civilians scattered as he darted out and pushed them aside, heading up onto the rooftops via a nearby ladder. Heart pounding, Altair streaked toward Malik as quickly as possible. Behind him, the people he'd scattered picked themselves up and exchanged puzzled comments about the smoke in the sky and the crazy man from the hay.

Actually panting after racing at such a tremendous speed, Altair skidded to a halt in front of the Bureau. Fire covered everything, lapping greedily at papers and books and wood.

"MALIK!" Altair screamed, diving into the wreckage. Frantic, he heaved beams and broken stone from his path, searching desparately. Adrenaline fueled his explosive terror, lending his limbs the strength they needed. Over a minute passed before he cried out in anguish.

Malik lay a few feet away, injured and unmoving. A heavy peice of debris pinned his torso to the ground while blood seeped from a gash at his temple. Setting his shoulder to the heavy object, Altair heaved it aside. He did not care that the top of it was on fire, leaving him with painful shoulder burns. Nothing mattered anymore to the panicked assassin. Malik was hurt and needed him. Yes, he could ignore any pain if it meant saving the one he loved.

Heat and smoke assaulting him, Altair doggedly grasped Malik's arm and tried to pull him from the burning ruins. But the adrenaline rush was fading as he struggled to breathe, and his vision darkened. The last thing Altair knew was arms wrapping around him from behind - taking him away from Malik.

oOo

**Whew! That made me shiver right there, writing about our favorite Assassins caught in a burning Bureau. **

**Review, please! I love the suggestions and comments :)**


	10. Dark Revelations

Altair groaned as he awoke. A blinding headache made him cradle his head in his hands, trying to shut out the light. Only gradually did he become aware of the cold, horrifyingly familiar feeling of heavy metal around his wrists. Chains! He was trapped!

Fear and distress welled up powerfully under the Assassin's skin, causing each breath to come short and harsh. Why was this happening again? Oh, surely that whole time with Malik hadn't been a mere dream! He wouldn't be able to handle it if it had. Such love, joy, and happiness were what all men craved. The mere thought of those things being a phantom image - like travelers in the desert who are tempted by the mirage of a lake - forced a tear from Altair's eye.

For a long time the Assassin waited in the darkness of his cell with only a few rats to keep him company. Water dripped down the stone walls and the dirt clung wetly to his legs and hands. Each beat of his heart sounded incredibly loud in such quiet and anticipation. When would someone come? What was in store for him should that happen? Altair felt as though he was drowning, unable to take hold of a single pebble of hope. Cold, dank air made his nose burn with each breath and there couldn't be any hope of rescue now, he knew. None of the other Assassins would risk themselves to get him out. Malik would probably stay away too, for the safety of the Brotherhood.

_Malik was with me, though, when I blacked out. He couldn't have gone anywhere...he was injured! _Altair groaned aloud at the memory. His lover was likely dead, at the very least captured. The tears came thick now. Malik dead! As if things weren't bad enough for him already.

Footsteps sounded outside the Assassin's cell, making him flinch. It sounded as though sevral people were marching in formation, getting steadily closer and closer. Altair tried to count how many there were, but only when the door swung open with an ominous _boom_ and the Templar inquisitors filed into his prison was the Assassin able to count. There were four footmen and two higher ranked; one was a torturer, his gruesome tools dangling from his belt. The other, however, was a woman! She stood tall, her arresting, aquiline face twisted into a cold smile. She carried a sword at her hip and wore a mix of chain and plate armor, marking her as a rare female knight.

Silence gripped the room for a moment as the knight sized Altair up with her shrewd, condesending gaze. He said nothing, face emotionless and body forced to relax. _I must not fail the Brotherhood again,_ Altair told himself firmly. It would be unforgivable this time, should he do so.

The knight snapped her fingers, turning to the footmen. "Leave," she ordered in English. So she was from England? Many of the Crusaders and European Templars came from France. Altair had spent enough time in Acre before his fall from grace to learn that. But he kept his face carefully schooled into a blank expression. It would not do to indicate surprize at her heritage.

"So, _Altay-air_," she began, stepping closer to him. He allowed himself to glare at the mispronounciation of his name. The knight only sneered at him for it, not caring about his anger. "Do you want to know what happened to your precious friend, the Dai?" Altair's blood boiled and he struggled to keep a snarl from bursting through his lips. How dare she talk about Malik? Oh, he longed to throttle this nasty Templar with his bare hands!

"Well? Do you?" she prompted with glee. Malevolence gleamed in her eyes, and Altair couldn't help but snarl his hatred.

"Disgusting Templar! What makes you think I want to hear any more of your foul language?" he sneered harshly. The knight didn't seem upset by this at all.

"You know, Altair, I've been watching you for a while. I saw how much you care about your little friend, so think about that before you get so _rude._"

A thunderous growl reverbarated from the Assassin's throat, but he subsided some. He hated it, but the woman was right; it wouldn't do to upset her when she possibly had Malik's life in her hands.

**Whew! Sorry for the long hiatus :( I had a dry spell, I'm afraid.**


	11. Malik Awakens

Malik groaned weakly, pushing himself up into a sitting position with his arm. Or trying to, at least; his head swam and his nerves sang with pain, forcing the one-armed Dai to collapse like a boneless fish. The floor was cold and Malik shivered. What had happened to him? There had been fire...but fires like that didn't just pop up out of nowhere! Had someone discovered the Bureau's location and set the fire to kill him? That was a terrifying notion.

After a few minutes Malik made another attempt to sit up. This time his head did not ache as horribly as the last. But the chill of the floor and the wall and the blackness that surrounded him told Malik that he was a prisoner. Whoever had set the fire had come back to find him alive and brought him here. Every nerve in the Dai's body screamed with the pain of his injuries. The upsetting thing is that he has time to feel the full extent of it all, to languish and drown in his loneliness. Is this what Altair felt like during those long five years? Malik shivered at the thought. What an awful fate to endure!

As he lay there against the wall, exhausted and in pain, Malik felt the fog slowly lifting from his mind. He was able to think more clearly than before now. Small attempts to move his arm yielded more and more success. The Dai smiled widely, enjoying the knowledge that the terrifying weakness and helplessness were almost gone. Maybe later he could make an attempt to grab a key from a guard's belt ring if any came in to check on him.

This strange feeling of regaining his strength was odd for Malik, to say the least. After his arm being lost he had never really felt like this. Maybe it was an illusion, a side effect of the fire or the blow he'd sustained to the head. Malik shivered at the thought. He did not like the idea that he was not in control of his own mind. To be out of control did not mean good things for an assassin. Malik thrived on routine and order, being in control of everything in his small world. That probably was why Altair still annoyed him sometimes - the man did not follow orders or submit easily to other people's control.

Malik did his best to keep thinking and planning. It helped ease the strain of boredom. Bored men broke easily, while those who kept their minds strong and active could bear extreme amounts of torture if necessary. They had more focus, and focus determines reality.

So he waited alone with only his mind to keep him company. Malik wondered about many things - would Altair be alright? Would they get out of whatever trouble they were in together? Was the whole brotherhood endangered? When would he be visited by human beings, and presumably, tortured for the secrets he held?

Endless wondering. Just as the Dai was about to run out of new things to think about, he heard something. A rough scraping sound. What was going on? Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up as he noticed the helmeted head staring at him through a coverable grate on the door. A Templar! Malik had suspected that the longtime rivals of the Assassin Order were behind the fire. This was proof. The helmet was easily recognizable. Only Crusaders wore it.

The bolts on the door retracted and three Templars entered the cell. One had no helmet, carrying a belt filled with innumerable tools. Tools of torture? Obviously. The other two were more like guards. Their hands were on the hilts of their swords, ready to cut Malik down if he managed to attempt an escape. What awful luck! Usually the torturer was alone. Malik grudgingly supposed that the scum were capable of learning from their failures after all. The thought was completely unsettling. Most Christians stubbornly clung to tradition and superstitions.

Well, these ones weren't.

_Oh, Allah, I need your help now more than ever!_

**Oh Gods! I'm terribly sorry for the ages it's taken for me to update this. Busy life and many days of writer's block do not make fast update time possible.**


End file.
